The Numbers on Her Wrist

42 (Epilogue)

A/N You should know, I suck at endings. The chapter previous to this was where it would have ended had this been a published book and if it does become published I'll probably end it there... This is purely an epilogue to give y'all some insight of what is happening and going to happen in the sequel that I have planned. That's why it's written a little differently than you are all used to.

A long Author's Note is going to be the next chapter. It will have information on the upcoming prequel and sequel! Your questions are answered there! ☺️

I watch as Benjamin and Rebecca- formally 537 and 556 respectively- dash around the recently built playground together with delightful laughter filling their faces. Two more orphans around their age- all newly named, and like the other pair, in starkly better condition than four months ago- screech blissfully and dodge nimbly out of the way as they barely skim past their friends. My smiles widens deeply and I wipe sweat from the back of my neck, squinting up at the bright late-spring sun; this year's season seems to be the hottest in current memory.

"Tired yet, Amy?"

I turn to watch as Samuel approached me with a bright smile, two disposable cups both filled to the brim with what I assume is lemonade held within his hands. I let out a snort and accept the glass with a small 'thank you,' teasing him playfully as he takes a seat on the wooden bench beside me. "Taking care of these little rascals almost compared to street fighting- they are far too energetic for me." I flash him a grin, "Why, are you tired?"

He wrinkles his nose and wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer to him and pressing a kiss to my cheek with a deep chuckle. "Yes, and I believe I just wasted ten minutes to make two measly glasses of lemonade." Sam takes a tiny sip of the murky yellow liquid, his face scrunching up in disgust before he spits the mouthful to the side, and gives me an unsatisfied look. "And it absolutely sucks." I purse my lips and glance down, before lifting my own glass up to take a drink. Instead of there being far too much sugar and overly sweet, I am surprised with a strong tart taste that sends a shiver down my back.

"Gah, Sam, that's terrible! What on earth did you do to it?"

"Nothing, I swear!" He chuckles, holding up his hands and crossing them to feign insult.

I laugh quietly with him and return my stare to the kids who gambol around the swings and slides, then to Steven- 541- sitting at one of the picnic tables with his nose buried in a book that I suggested, and finally to a group of volunteers that are carrying in more furniture donated by the city and state. I gesture towards them with an incline of my head, "It's astonishing how the community comes together for a couple of cute faces." Sam squeezes my hip gently, speaking against my shoulder as he leans his head against mine. "More than a couple, Amelia." He kisses my clavicle before turning his gaze to where my rests. "Besides, once the horrors of the Association got out- for once, thank God for those nosy reporters- what decent human being wouldn't want to help the children in need?"

I nod once, opting to not make a response. Samuel notices, and worries that something is wrong. "Hey, you okay? You went all quiet on me again." Samuel tugs on the edge of my shirt, his fingers brushing against the skin where there is a scar from the gunshot wound. "Is this hurting you again?" My skin flushes at feel of his hand over my side and I quickly shake my head, clearing my throat gently. "I'm just thinking, Sam... I'm okay, I swear." He nods once and lets me rest against him.

I run my fingers over his split knuckles, knowing that he has kept getting his fix of street fighting every few nights, but I have only recently been able to return to my routine of visiting the underground locations as I knew I should let my wounds heal first. Although, both Samuel and I have had to keep our activities on a tentative schedule and shorten them to only an hour or two at the very most. We are usually busy taking care of the children and helping them through the nightmares and anxiety attacks. Like me, all of their injuries and scars have healed, but they won't be able to sleep peacefully for a long while.